Embers
by LaraCroftTR65
Summary: Peeta's point of view on the escape from the Quarter Quell arena. He hates being separated from Katniss, but what choice did he have in the matter? Hunger Games Catching Fire.


Only Finnick, Beetee and I remain at our starting point at the lightning tree. Katniss and Johanna are running blindly into the forest with Beetee's wire. I have no idea where they are. Or where Chaff is. Or Brutus or Enobaria. I hate this plan! How am I supposed to protect Katniss from up here? I wish we had left when she had suggested it, but we may have wandered into Beetee's death trap. It's too late now anyway.

Finnick and I are both agitated. Neither one can stand still. We pace nervously back and forth, trying to distract ourselves.

'That's it!' Finnick shouts. 'I'm going in after them!'

'No way!' I tell him. 'Beetee made me stay here and you're going to stay as well.'

'You want someone to check on Katniss, don't you? You want to know she's safe?' he asks.

'Yeah, but I want that person to be me, not you, O'Dair!' I retort.

'Oh, so that's how it is,' he says slyly. 'I save your life and you still don't trust me?'

'Yeah, what was that about? Why'd you save me? I thought everyone was the enemy in here?' I ask.

'Yeah well,' he shrugs. 'Maybe I like you.'

That throws me. I thought that once you were in the arena, it didn't matter if you liked someone or not. They automatically became a target for most tributes. I didn't think it would have been any different for Finnick.

We fall back into our silent pacing, ignoring each other until we are pulled up short by two pairs of distant footsteps. We both reach the same conclusion.  
'Brutus and Enobaria!' we chorus.

'I'm going in after them,' Finnick declares.

'Why you?' I demand.

'Because you know I can reach them faster, Peeta,' Finnick says arrogantly, nodding towards my prosthetic leg.

"I don't care. I'm still going.' I spit vehemently. I hate being at a disadvantage.

'Fine. Do what you want. I'll reach them first.' Finnick yells and hurtles into the jungle.

I move after him but Beetee calls me back.

'Peeta, don't go! It's much safer up here.'

'And you expect me to leave Katniss alone in the danger?' I ask, shocked.

'She has Johanna,' he reasons calmly.

I look at him in disbelief and take off into the jungle.

I can hear Beetee calling after me, but I don't stop. I know he can't chase me because he has to work on the wire. If he doesn't finish whatever it is he's doing, then the rest of this is a waste of time and the plan would be futile.

The jungle is so uniformly green that, especially in the dark, it becomes impossible to tell where I have and haven't been. I stumble in the direction that I hope the beach is in, but my progress is slow with my leg. I trip over roots that have pushed their way above the ground or broken branches that have fallen from the trees. Miraculously, I manage to stay upright.

The sound of a cannon slows me to a halt. There are six other people that could be dead but there is only one that I care about.

I have to find her and quickly. I have to make sure she survives and that the right person is crowned victor of the Quarter Quell.

'Katniss!' I yell. 'Katniss!'

I can hear a voice a far distance away, shrieking for all her worth.

'Peeta! Peeta! I'm here! Peeta!'

I crash through the bushes to my left towards Katniss. She must know that the others are hunting us. She's smart enough to know that the cannon will trigger a free-for-all. Why is she being so loud?

Then I realise that she is trying to lure everyone away from me. She is still sticking to her ludicrous plan to sacrifice herself for me. Does she really think she would be doing me a favour? Does she really think I will have a life to go back to in 12 if she dies? I know now that if Katniss dies, I die too, but she can't see it.

She continues to scream, 'I'm here! I'm here! Peeta!'

'Shut up!' I think, willing her to be quiet.

My heart stops when I plunge into a clearing and see Brutus standing over a body, wielding a knife. Whoever that is, the cannon must have been theirs. In the darkness it is difficult to distinguish who it is. A strange sense of sadness and relief courses through me when I see that one of the arms ends in a stump. It was Chaff. It was his cannon.

Brutus turns to face me, his eyes glinting with bloodlust.

'You're next, Twelve,' he snarls.

I breathe quickly now, just soaking in the fact that Katniss is still alive. I don't care what Brutus does to me as long as she is okay.

'At least I don't have to worry about your partner,' he sneers as if he could read my mind. 'She's as good as dead anyway.'

Something inside of me snaps.

'What?' I demand.

Brutus freezes in his tracks.

'What did you do to her?' I roar.

He falters.

'Nothing I can't do to you too,' he adds cockily and he charges towards me.

I reach for my knife and brace myself for impact. But it never happens. Brutus gasps and staggers backwards. He trips over Chaff's body and lies in a heap, wheezing. I stare at him uncomprehendingly. A second ago he was about to administer the death blow to me, and now he lies down? What sort of tactic is that?

I don't understand until the cannon fires and I jump. I stare at Brutus' cold, lifeless body and then down to my knife which is covered in a thick, blood red liquid. Guilt rises in my throat and chokes me. I have just killed Brutus. I killed someone.

I feel sick at the thought and my stomach wretches, but I can't stop. In the arena, there is no time to think of the dead. Not when you are fighting to keep someone alive. I have to forget about him; forget the guilt. I have to distract myself. I have to get away from him.

I sprint off again deeper into the darkness.

I have to find her. I have to find her. I have to find her.

'Katniss,' I howl and will myself to run even faster through the dark, dense jungle.

I burst into a clearing when it happens. The lightning strikes the tree and the arena erupts into a brilliant blue flash. I am flung backwards to the ground while everything around me bursts into flames or explodes into tiny, feathery bits of singed matter. My ears are ringing from the explosion, or at least I think they are until I realise that there are still thousands of explosions all around me. I am certain that the forcefield is still exploding until my eyes adjust better to the darkness and I see that the explosions are coloured. The Gamemakers are setting off fireworks above the arena.

Why would they do that? To illuminate our fiery deaths? To hide the fact that the tributes outsmarted them? To give the audience exactly what they want; an exciting, fiery fight to the death?

I lie paralysed, thinking of how I have failed in my last wish. I wanted to protect Katniss. I don't know where she is or even if she's still alive. She didn't answer me after Brutus' cannon sounded, and in all the commotion, I could have easily missed the boom of a third cannon. For all I know, she is already dead.

A hovercraft silently materialises above me and a giant iron claw reaches down to grab me.

'But I'm not dead,' I think weakly.

Surely the Gamemakers know that. The claw plucks me from the arena. I try to wriggle free or tell them that they have made a mistake; taken the wrong body, but I am immobilised.

Once inside the hovercraft, two Capitol people dressed from head to toe in white grab me and drag me to a table. They pin my arms and legs down, although I couldn't struggle if I wanted to.

A third man with blood red eyes and teeth that have been sharpened into fangs walks in. He waves a syringe in front of me sinisterly and jabs it into my upper left arm.

Instantly, I become weak and tired. Reality and violent images of the Games collide in my mind in a brilliant white explosion that made the forcefield look as impressive as a bubble popping. The last thought I form is, 'Is this what they are doing to Katniss too?'

And with that sickening, stomach wrenching thought, I pass out.

I open my eyes and flinch. The lights are too bright and I instinctively move my hand to cover my eyes. But I can't move it. I try my other hand and my legs but none of those will work either. Is this a side effect of the injection? Or am I still paralysed from the explosion in the arena?

Strangely, I find I can turn my head, so slowly, I raise it up to see what is wrong with my limbs. My stomach sinks when I see restraints strapping my arms, legs and chest to the table.

The man with blood red eyes stands beside me, obviously waiting for me to wake up. He presses a button and the table I lie on sits up into a chair.

A movie begins to play on the screen in front of me. It pans over District 12, showing everything; the school, my bakery, the Justice Building, Victors Village. Something draws me to the screen and I can't tear my gaze away.

Then I can hear President Snow's voice ring out over the movie.

'Take a good look, Peeta. Recognise it? Of course you do. It's your home. Where you grew up,' he sneers. 'Well, we have a surprise for District 12 and we want to share it with you, Peeta.'

A formation of Capitol hovercrafts materialise over District 12. People in the street stop and gaze at them, wondering what is happening. It is not until the first bomb drops and explodes in the street that people realise. Hysterical screams fill my ears and I want to look away from the horror, but I can't tear myself away. Apparently, it's a special technique the Capitol use; some sort of hypnosis.

I watch helplessly as my friends turn to human torches. Buildings collapse, killing hundreds more who survived the initial bombing. The coal dust covering Twelve means everything combusts violently until everything is engulfed by orange flames, licking menacingly at the heels of those who flee.

I hear a constant screaming much louder than the others, and I have a vague idea that it might be me.

The red-eyed man jabs another needle into my arm, although this time it does not make me pass out as I hope it will. It is trackerjacker venom. Already I begin to hallucinate before President Snow continues.

'And Peeta, we've got one more thing to show you.' I can hear the smile in his voice.

The camera zooms in to a building. I don't recognise it under the thick fog of black smoke caused by the coal dust. But once the camera pans to inside, I know where it is. I can see Rye and Appam crouching in a corner, and Mother and Father are hugging them both.

'No!' I scream. 'No! Leave them alone!'

I struggle against the restraints, kicking and screaming as if I could reach through the screen to help them.

A silver mist fills the screen. The trackerjacker venom is taking hold and I can't tell what is real and what is not anymore.

Another bomb shakes the screen and I see the building collapse around my family. I hear their screams and orange bubbles burst out from where my family were.

'No! No! Don't you dare touch them! Leave them alone, you bastards!' I yell hysterically.

'This is old footage, Peeta. Your family is dead. None of them made it out alive,' he snarls.

'No!' Tears stream down my face. My world collapses around me. It can't be true. They can't be dead. Rye and Appam and Father and Mother. It's not possible.

But, even my impaired state, I know it is. My body shakes as I sob. It feels as if someone has punched a hole in my chest. They were all so innocent, everyone that died in Twelve. And they are all dead because of me.

The trackerjacker venom makes me even more berserk. Tiny purple birds fly out from the screen and peck at my eyes. I can shut my eyes now but the birds peck their way through my eyelids as well.

President Snow continues to hiss into my ear.

'This is all Katniss' fault Peeta,' he says calmly.

'No!'

'Do you think she cares? She feels nothing for the dead. All of her friends and family survived, but do you think she cares about you and your family? Ha!' he laughs.

'It is all her doing, Peeta. She is a mutt. She was designed for this. She burned down Twelve. The girl on fire started an inferno that she cannot control. But she remains safe while the innocent people die. Remember that, Peeta. This is her fault. She is the mutt. She is the enemy.'

'No,' I whisper. 'You're lying. It's not true. She's not.'

But the trackerjacker venom makes me unsure. Could Katniss be a mutt? I can't separate her from the burning of Twelve. I see her face, twisted and distorted by the trackerjacker venom in my system, grinning evilly and laughing as District Twelve is destroyed. I don't know what to believe. Right now all I know is that Twelve is gone and my family are dead.

I am a nomad. I have no home.

I am an orphan. I have no family.

And it may be the fault of the one girl I love.

I battle with the restraints as the tears fall. Then I fall into the terrible nightmares that are associated with the venom. But this time, the images are all real.

All night I replay the movie in my mind. Watch my family die, over and over again. Hear their final screams echo in my head. I find there is no relief in waking either. No matter what I do, I can't escape the grief, the sense of loss.

And I know as long as I live, I never will.


End file.
